No, seriously, WHAT happened last night?
by GalaxyGirl181
Summary: John wakes up one morning with a confusing set of memories...which Sherlock swears never happened. As John continues to try and discover the truth, both the boys will have to confront truths they have been concealing from each other...and from themselves
1. Boundaries

John was entirely unprepared for the awakening he received on that particular Sunday. This was not, in fact, courtesy of a certain high-functioning sociopath-this time- but rather the result of the intense light and the pounding headache that was a bit like being trapped in an elevator with a fully amplified heavy metal band.

After about five minutes of lying there hoping he was still dreaming, he actually managed to open his eyes for more than a millisecond. Wincing, he sat up, thinking bloody hell, how drunk did I GET last night? He thought back.

_ Darkened pub,music blasting from somewhere, trying to hit it off with some lovely young lady-Emma? Julia? Well, anyway she was lovely- A dark form appears behind her, says something slightly ruder than his usual less than charming remarks, and has her scampering for cover in moments. he turns to John, his beaming smile crumbling around the edges just barely perceptibly to John's well-trained eye. "Well John," Sherlock-for indeed it was he-interrupted this train of thought. "If you are quite finished reaffirming your masculinity-" " SHERlock!" "Then we can return to the flat."_

_"Fine, since you've successfully scared off anyone even remotely interesting"_

_"Oh, please, everyone there was boring. Saturday night, two weeks from Valentine's, everyone's hopeless, desperate and utterly ridiculous."_

_"She was NICE."_

_"Boring."_

_John thought for a moment. Her red hair had been nice...or was it brown? Oh, the hell with it._

_"Yeah. Probably"_

_Sherlock steered John out of the pub and to the corner, where they hailed a cab and rode home in companionable silence._

_ As they headed up the stairs to 221B, John added, "But just once, Sherlock, I'd like to decide that for myself."_

_"Well then avoid doing so in my presence. There are a myriad of chemical experiments both far more relevant and far more likely to bring results then than the microscopic titch of chemistry there really WASNT between you and ms. Lennerts." _

_"LAWRENCE." _

_"And anyway, she was only talking to you to make her best friend jealous." _

_"How can you possibly...never mind. Don't tell me. You're Sherlock-bloody-Holmes. The better question here is WHY do you even care? I was just talking to her for a minute. Its not as though I was trying to seduce her or something." _

_"Oh please, you're a man, you're always trying to "seduce her or something" as you so eloquently put it."_

_"Says the one whose only sex life is the one my more..imaginative...blog fans write for you!"_

_"Oh, says the one who forgets his girlfriend's NAME!"_

_This was so very mature of them. John just couldn't resist now "Says the one who TOOK Irene Adler's PULSE instead of kissing her!"_

_"Oh, says the one who insists that he is straight even after three years of being in love with me."_

_All the breath leaves John in one great whoosh. "...What." John's face is so pale, the moon would be envious._

_Sherlock has turned an unhealthy blotchy red. "I didn't mean to say that."_

_"But you said it. Why?"_

_"Because its true, obviously. I don't understand feelings, but love is pure chemicals and I am a genius. I mean, honestly, everyone takes one look at us and assumes we are romantically involved, beginning the DAY WE MET, they must have some basis for the belief. So I investigated. Your heart rate increases in my presence, as does your body temperature. You are constantly denying that we are a couple, to the point where it is unnecessary, and you have been unable to keep a girlfriend for more than a month for years." _

_"Sherlock. NO. You can't just do this to people. To ME. We are friends, and there are always, always boundaries about what you can and can't deduce, and you have just crossed every one of them. All right? Now, maybe you're a a tiny, tiny bit right, but even if you were it doesn't matter because you'll never feel the same, and there's absolutely no-"_

_John was silenced by a hand on his collar and a pair of lips pressed against his own. _


	2. Someone owes me an explanation

_Oh God. Sherlock is kissing him. John is so surprised that he simply stands there doing nothing for a good three seconds. Sherlock pulls away, looking ashamed. _

_"I'm doing it wrong. I'm sorry. I thought..."_

_"Shut up" John grabs Sherlock's scarf and pulls him down into a second kiss. This time, both parties are active participants. John isn't sure who opens their mouth first but suddenly there are tongues and warmth and so much feeling that John gasps and pulls Sherlock even closer. Their first kiss is already so intense that neither knows what to do so they just fall onto the couch and continue making out like ridiculous teenagers. _

_In the back of his mind john thinks Oh. This is what I've been missing. And he almost weeps because he can't believe what an idiot he's been. Sherlock is always telling him so. How could he have missed this? _

_For several minutes they simply can't stop, their kisses becoming less heated and more rhythmic as they both realize that this could go on for some time and they both need oxygen. John finds himself laughing against Sherlock's lips._

_"What?" _

_"I think" John chuckles again. "We were arguing about something."_

_"hmmm..."Sherlock almost purrs, nuzzling John's neck. "We should argue more often."_

_Suddenly John pulls away, glancing at Sherlock's puffy lips and even-messier-than-usual curls with a touch of pride. _

_"So, what exactly happened to you being 'married to your work' you git?"_

_Sherlock considered the question carefully. "well, first of all, at the time that conversation took place, not only had I just met you, but I was on the trail of a serial killer and in no position to get emotionally attached. Also, seeing as I had never been in any serious relationship, or really any relationship that was not purely physical-everyone experiments during university, so I learned then that girlfriends were really not my area, but I was...rather difficult to get along with even then._

_ "I had long ago come to terms with the idea of living the rest of my life in solitude. People began to assume that I was asexual and as an act of self-defense I saw no reason to correct them. Therefore I was woefully unprepared for the rush of...er, emotional confusion... I felt around you. By the time I deduced that you were attracted to me, I had realized-by way of similar experiments- that I was attracted to you as well. _

_"My god, Sherlock, you would manage to make the fact that you fancied me from the get-go sound like a lab report, wouldn't you?"_

_"Ha. Well, at least I wasn't in the cupboard for the three years during which I lived with the person I fancied."_

_"Closet, Sherlock, NOT cupboard."_

_"Oh."_

_They return to kissing._

**_Oh God that was so fluffy D: I swear there will be a plot to this but in the meantime try not to gag..._**


	3. Painful Revalations

John sat up in bed. Now that he remembered the night before, he naturally had to see Sherlock immediately, headache or no. He shuffled groggily down the hall, pulling on a dressing-gown as he went. The raven-haired detective was in the kitchen, doing something dreadful with something that looked like green slime and smelled like burnt cabbage.

"Don't expect me to kiss you again if you keep smelling like that." John said by way of greeting

Sherlock began "John, I'm in the middle of an experiment, don't inter... What did you just say?

"I was only joking...although if you Scould at least wash your hands that'd be nice"

"Kiss you?" Sherlock had a mixture of concern and confusion on his face that John never wanted to see there again.

"Well yeah, I mean, what happened last night didn't strike me as a one-time thing. We are friends too after all."

"John, what exactly do you believe happened last night?" Sherlock was peering at John-invading his personal space in a far-less enjoyable manner.

"We...were at the pub. I was talking to a girl, you scared her off, we went home, argued, you proved that I fancied you and... yeah."

"John, last night I was working on a case, and you were sitting on the couch having a one-way shouting match with the telly. We did not in any way..." Sherlock looked a little sad and supremely uncomfortable "Deviate from our usual habits."

"But...what about... are you sure?" John's memories were SO clear, so vivid. Sherlock's lips pressed against his own, his fingers tangling in those gorgeous curls... But of course it was a dream. If Sherlock was capable of that sort of affection, John would know about it. No, the cruel truth was, John had discovered that he had feelings for his ridiculous flatmate, and at the same time had discovered that these feelings would never be returned.

**Sorry about this chapter, darlings D: I promise it gets better soon. Review to keep this poor writer moving**?


	4. Coffee shops and contemplated murders

John had to get out of the flat. As soon as he possibly could, he excused himself, saying he had to get to work. Sherlock's protests of "The clinic doesn't even open until ten!" Going unheeded.

He decided to walk to work, since the sky was only vaguely grey and sulky today, rather than actively raining, and stopped at a coffee shop for a quick breakfast. As he arrived at the counter and began to place his order, the youngish girl at the till glanced up. Her eyes widened.

"Hey! I know you. You're that blogger bloke what works with the detective! What's his name...Sherman?"

"Sherlock." Even saying his name right then felt like an icicle stabbed through his heart.

"Right, Sherlock. Right genius, he is, and quite the looker, too. Some people have all the luck."

"Yeah..." John muttered. He was seriously considering strangling this kid. If it hadn't been for the fact that his best friend was literally the cleverest detective in all Europe... no. Not thinking of him. Order food. Leave. John hurriedly ordered the first thing he could think of, and got out of there. As he left the shop, his phone chirped. Sherlock. Damn.

'John, on your way home bring film for camera. And cesium, iodine and peroxide. And more tea. SH'

'NO'

'Why are you angry? SH

...

'John, don't be boring. I'll let you on this case... Three witnesses, they all swear that it was a '

'NO'

'Vampire, John!'

'Work, Sherlock'

'Please.'

And that was as close as Sherlock was ever going to come to apologizing. Besides, it wasn't as though it was his fault that John was a, to use the detective's words, "sentimental idiot".

This was the life that John lived for, after all, and he was just going to have to get used to a little extra pain.

'Fine. I'll call Sarah.'

'Don't forget the tea. SH'

** A/N Short chapter is short. Sorry. I'll be back this weekend, ok?**


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